If you're the king, your private life becomes public knowledge. In an earlier post I discussed some well-known royal divorce cases from medieval Europe. Here I discuss two more.
One of the most significant for political history was the divorce of Louis VII of France and Eleanor of Aquitaine in the 1150s. He was the heir to the French throne and she the heiress to the duchy of Aquitaine, essentially the southwest quarter of France, a very wealthy territory, so it seemed like an excellent match when they married back in 1137. But they were related within the "forbidden degrees," being third cousins. When after years of marriage they had only had a couple of daughters, Louis became convinced they were being punished by God for the sin of incest. After all, one of the main duties of a king is to have a son to keep the line going.
They went on the Second Crusade together as penance, but the Crusade was a disaster. On the way home, they stopped in Rome, where the pope formally forgave them for their "incest" and promised them a son. The next year they had another daughter.
So Louis got the French bishops to annul their marriage (the pope was furious when he found out) and quickly married again. He did eventually have a son, the future Philip II. He seems to have expected Eleanor to retreat to a life of seclusion and contemplation.
Instead she too remarried. Initially, on the way back to Aquitaine from Paris, she was pursued by half the unmarried nobles of France--and some of the married ones. But she managed to outride them (think of the scene with Arwen and the Black Riders in the first "Lord of the Rings" movie). But it was obvious she would only be safe if married. She chose Henry, the young heir to Normandy and Anjou in western France, soon to become Henry II of England. They went on to have five sons (and a couple of daughters), suggesting the failure of Louis and Eleanor to have sons was not her fault.
Politically, Aquitaine now was attached to the English crown, not the French one--an issue that caused tension throughout the rest of the Middle Ages, culminating in the Hundred Years War. Interestingly, the new spouses Eleanor and Louis married after their divorce were also their third cousins.
Louis's son and heir, King Philip II of France, also had a messy divorce. He went on the Third Crusade in 1189, got sick (perhaps malaria, there were lots of diseases in the Near East unknown in western Europe), and went home. Shortly thereafter he married Ingeborg of Denmark, who actually was not his cousin. But on their wedding night he took an inexplicable dislike to her, perhaps related to his recent illness.
In the morning he declared they had not consummated their union and that the marriage should therefore be annulled. Ingeborg, on the other hand, said that they had in fact performed the "copula carnalis" (on which click here), that she had been right there, it was not the sort of thing a girl was likely to be mistaken about. The pope backed her up, but Philip refused to recognize her as his wife. It took years, and France put under interdict, before they finally reached an amicable agreement and Philip married a different woman, who gave him a son. This divorce case indicates the very strong medieval sense that marriage ought to be insoluble.
Interestingly, the church's emphasis from here on was on the permanence of marriage. To avoid quite so many divorces like Louis's and Eleanor's, the number of "forbidden degrees" was reduced from 7 to 4 in 1214, meaning anyone related more distantly than third cousins could not claim divorce on the basis of incest.
© C. Dale Brittain 2014
For more on medieval marriage and divorce, and so much more, see my ebook, Positively Medieval: Life and Society in the Middle Ages.
Showing posts with label royal divorce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label royal divorce. Show all posts
Monday, July 28, 2014
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Royal Divorce in the Middle Ages
In a previous post I discussed medieval divorce. Here I give a couple examples of famous divorces that helped shape medieval marriage and divorce law.
Marriage was just becoming a sacrament in the ninth century when King Lothar II decided to divorce his wife, Tetburgis, and instead marry Waldrada, his former concubine. Tetburgis was of a much more powerful family than the relatively low-born Waldrada, so the marriage had made sense originally. But after several years in which Tetburgis did not get pregnant--although Waldrada had produced a son for the king--Lothar decided to elevate the girl he'd always liked.
At this point the bishops jumped all over him. Marriage was permanent, they said. So Lothar had to find a way to get Tetburgis out of the way. First she was bribed to say she wanted to become a nun and had never willingly given her oath of marriage in the first place, but this only worked until she changed her mind. (Two centuries later, one spouse entering the church would have required both spouses to enter the church, but the ninth century was still figuring this out.)
Then Lothar accused Tetburgis of adultery. When this did not win him the desired divorce, he upped it to incestuous adultery with her brother. When even this didn't work, he tried incestuous adultery in an unnatural position which had made her give birth to a monstrous fetus, explaining why she couldn't get pregnant now. Unfortunately, no one believed him. The case involved bishops, the pope, other kings, and all the relatives. Only Lothar's death ten years later ended the excitement.
Two centuries later, at the end of the eleventh century, King Philip I of France also ran into trouble when he tried to get a divorce. He and his queen, Bertha of Holland, had successfully produced a son, the future Louis VI. But then Philip took a dislike to Bertha and accused her of being "too fat." This was rich, coming from Philip, who himself got so fat he was unable to ride a horse. (Louis VI was later nicknamed "the Fat." Hormones.)
Instead Philip hooked up with Bertrada, wife of the count of Anjou. The count of Anjou was understandably furious and wrote a long treatise on the history of the counts of Anjou, whose subtext was that his family was wonderful and the royal line was degraded incompetents. If this was supposed to win Bertrada back, it didn't work. The bishops and eventually the pope also got on Philip's case. He was even excommunicated at one point for refusing to listen to the church; being excommunicated did have the advantage of getting him out of going on the First Crusade. Finally he promised the pope to give up Bertrada "right away." In fact he did no such thing, but the pope was fighting the German king at this point and worrying about the Crusade, so he turned a blind eye, so Philip, Bertrada, and their children continued as a happy family.
Louis VI, who took over effective governance of France during the final years of his father's life, was not happy about this, however, especially since Bertrada apparently tried at one point to poison him.
Coming up soon, more royal divorces.
© C. Dale Brittain 2014
For medieval marriage, divorce, and so much more, see my ebook, Positively Medieval: Life and Society in the Middle Ages.
Marriage was just becoming a sacrament in the ninth century when King Lothar II decided to divorce his wife, Tetburgis, and instead marry Waldrada, his former concubine. Tetburgis was of a much more powerful family than the relatively low-born Waldrada, so the marriage had made sense originally. But after several years in which Tetburgis did not get pregnant--although Waldrada had produced a son for the king--Lothar decided to elevate the girl he'd always liked.
At this point the bishops jumped all over him. Marriage was permanent, they said. So Lothar had to find a way to get Tetburgis out of the way. First she was bribed to say she wanted to become a nun and had never willingly given her oath of marriage in the first place, but this only worked until she changed her mind. (Two centuries later, one spouse entering the church would have required both spouses to enter the church, but the ninth century was still figuring this out.)
Then Lothar accused Tetburgis of adultery. When this did not win him the desired divorce, he upped it to incestuous adultery with her brother. When even this didn't work, he tried incestuous adultery in an unnatural position which had made her give birth to a monstrous fetus, explaining why she couldn't get pregnant now. Unfortunately, no one believed him. The case involved bishops, the pope, other kings, and all the relatives. Only Lothar's death ten years later ended the excitement.
Two centuries later, at the end of the eleventh century, King Philip I of France also ran into trouble when he tried to get a divorce. He and his queen, Bertha of Holland, had successfully produced a son, the future Louis VI. But then Philip took a dislike to Bertha and accused her of being "too fat." This was rich, coming from Philip, who himself got so fat he was unable to ride a horse. (Louis VI was later nicknamed "the Fat." Hormones.)
Instead Philip hooked up with Bertrada, wife of the count of Anjou. The count of Anjou was understandably furious and wrote a long treatise on the history of the counts of Anjou, whose subtext was that his family was wonderful and the royal line was degraded incompetents. If this was supposed to win Bertrada back, it didn't work. The bishops and eventually the pope also got on Philip's case. He was even excommunicated at one point for refusing to listen to the church; being excommunicated did have the advantage of getting him out of going on the First Crusade. Finally he promised the pope to give up Bertrada "right away." In fact he did no such thing, but the pope was fighting the German king at this point and worrying about the Crusade, so he turned a blind eye, so Philip, Bertrada, and their children continued as a happy family.
Louis VI, who took over effective governance of France during the final years of his father's life, was not happy about this, however, especially since Bertrada apparently tried at one point to poison him.
Coming up soon, more royal divorces.
© C. Dale Brittain 2014
For medieval marriage, divorce, and so much more, see my ebook, Positively Medieval: Life and Society in the Middle Ages.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)